Category: Corrigan/Corgan

The Northeastern Pennsylvania Genealogical Society recently moved its library to Annex Two of the Kirby Health Center in downtown Wilkes-Barre. What a delight to return to this regional treasure, now housed in a second floor suite of rooms filled with bright ambient light and tended by a dedicated corps of family history sleuths.

Today I used one of the computers to access the society’s digital records, which include all the sacramental records within the Roman Catholic Diocese of Scranton, which fortunately includes my husband’s Hazleton family.

On page 0049 of the marriage record is the above script, which brings to mind the middle-schooler quip, “Latin is a dead language, as dead as it can be. Latin killed the Romans, and now its killing me.”

Latin was the performative language of the Roman Catholic churches of northeastern Pennsylvania (and throughout the US) until well into the 20th century, when it was gradually displaced by English. So all those sacramental records that I wish to record and decode will require me to dust off my Latin and/or refer to the cheat sheets provided by the NEPAGS.

THIS record confirms the Corrigan’s oral tradition.

Martin Corrigan and Mary Walker were joined in matrimony in the presence of Hugh Sheridan and Margaret Corrigan, on March 30, 1861–which happened to be Easter that year–by Father Michael L. Scanlon.

At the time of the ceremony Father Scanlon was priest of St. Mary’s parish at Beaver Meadows, the mother of the coal region’s parishes, and in charge of the construction of St. Gabriel’s Church in the nearby town of Hazleton. And this fact corroborates the lore that Martin and Mary were married at St. Mary’s Church.

The church records don’t record that all participants walked to and from the ceremony from coal towns like Ebervale and Hazleton, a 12 mile round trip.

Did the newlyweds have a reception upon their return or perhaps an Easter feast at a family member’s home?

Now I want to go back to my family history pals and ask them about 19th wedding traditions!!

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My “decluttering for the holidays” was stymied today by the discovery of scan-able scraps that directly pertain to my previous post. And so, as is often the case with my reorganization efforts, I am at the keyboard rather than behind the vacuum.

The photograph of James A. Corrigan was dated in the upper left corner–1912. During this morning’s work, I found his medical school year book, Jefferson’s The Clinician, among the boxes I was sorting. Inside the black leather cover were a few scraps of paper.

Dead stop. Flip Pal out.

What a hoot!! No letter of “Congratulations! You have been admitted to the class of 1915!” Just a notice of matriculation, number 386, confirming that James Corrigan had satisfactorily completed preparatory classes in 1911. His family certainly counted it as an important document, and carefully preserved the scrap as proof that Jim had been admitted to Jefferson Medical College in Philadelphia beginning with the 1911-1912 session.

Another valuable piece of paper was this stationary, remarkable for its header.Being asked to serve as President of the school’s pathology society as a second year student (1912-1913) must have been quite an honor.

The scraps add dimension to the image in front of the flowering shrub. It is more than a photo of a thirty-something Jim Corrigan. It is a snapshot of the Hazleton native’s transition from scholar to doctor and community leader.

After graduating high school, Jim worked as a clerk in a Hazleton (PA) clothing store, and held offices in the Clerk’s Union and St. Gabriel’s chapter of the Knights of Columbus. In his late twenties, Jim attended Bloomsbury State Normal School before following his brothers’ footsteps to Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in 1911. The thirty-one year old medical student posed for someone’s camera the following summer, nattily dressed in a wool suit, hat in hand.

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Deadlines are a writer’s friend, and I desperately needed one if I was to transform an octopus of a research project into a finished story. Analyzing my mother-in-law’s old book, The Mine Foreman’s Handbook, for heirloom status had proven to be a daunting task.

The editor of my local genealogical society newsletter reminded me each time I visited their library of my promise to contribute a story. This past spring I committed to pressing “send” by the summer solstice. And the account of Martin Corrigan’s book flowed out, line by line by line.

I urge all you family history lovers to venture out from tree shaping and blog posting. We all have some big stories to tell. Find a genealogical or historical society near you and make friends with their newsletter deadline.

Here is an excerpt of Inside Out: Judging a Book By Its Cover, which begins on page 11 of the summer issue of Northeast Pennsylvania Genealogical Society’s newsletter, The Heritage.

“In 1887 Martin Corrigan was granted a Certificate of Service by the Pennsylvania Mine Foreman Examining Board, an alternative certification which recognized men who had served as mine foremen for at least one year prior to the 1885 Mine Safety Act9 . Martin Corrigan did not own this book in order to take the Mine Foreman Exam himself. Martin may have originally purchased the book for his own private library, consulting its contents in his role as mine boss for Augustus S. Van Winkle’s Milnesville collieries. But Martin also loaned this book out. The words “Please Return” were found inside the front and back covers, and on one of the first pages someone inscribed the words: Martin Corrigan No. 90 North Wyoming Street Hazleton.”

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In 1919, Jim and Anna (Monahan) Corrigan lived with his mom, Mary Walker Corrigan, above his medical office in a double house on West Broad Street, Hazleton, Pennsylvania. Anna went into labor on June 25, and that night Jim, a general practitioner specializing in obstetrics, delivered his own first born child.

While Mary tended to his wife, Jim cradled his infant daughter and headed to the only phone in the house, down in his office. After placing a few calls to announce his Mary Margaret’s arrival the euphoric father returned to Anna and Mary.

“Jim, where’s the baby?” asked his mother.

He turned on his heel, ran down the stairs and scooped Mary’s swaddled little body off the desk where he had absentmindedly set her while talking with his brothers.

Later James A Corrigan, MD recorded this delivery, as he did every delivery, in a pocket-sized notebook, and checked off the entry when he officially recorded Mary’s birth with Pennsylvania Vital Statistics, Form No. 11.

Enter a caption

These records were identified by Mary Corrigan Delehanty as belonging to her father, James Aloysius Corrigan, MD.

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I am a keeper of my family's lore, chasing after my ancestors' tales in south central New York, southwestern Pennsylvania and Southside Virginia. The stories and photographs that I share on this blog are my intellectual property. While I do my very best to provide well researched posts, I do not pretend to have reached genealogical proof standards. Therefore, much of this work is to generate conversation among interested parties. If you would like to share my work or my records, please contact me: dkaysdays (at) gmail (dot) com.